


Black Market

by louluna



Category: Spider-Man (Comicverse)
Genre: F/M, Friends With Benefits, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-05
Updated: 2018-10-05
Packaged: 2019-07-25 09:55:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16195163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/louluna/pseuds/louluna
Summary: “I do know you,” he finally said, reaching up to cup her neck, thumb tracing delicate along her jaw. Too gently, he removed her mask and set it aside.Felicia’s chest ached in a way she wasn’t quite used to, always a little unnerved when he choose to be this tender with her.“You really don’t,” she whispered, tracing a small heart at the center of his chest with her fingertip, right where his spider emblem would have been. “But I know you.”She’d seen the way Peter looked at him.





	Black Market

**Author's Note:**

> Months ago, I received a prompt for Spideytorch or Peter/Felicia with "You're completely ridiculous. I can't believe I find you attractive." 
> 
> Well, anon, you really went out and requested my two favorite things, so how could I not give you a little of both??

When Felicia entered the bedroom Peter was already there—lounging on the bed like he’d been invited, the dress shirt he’d worn earlier that night crumpled on her otherwise spotless the floor. 

She couldn’t really complain though, not with a view like that—broad chest on full display, his naked shoulders cutting clean lines in the shadowed room. She paused in the doorway to drink in the sight of him, all hard muscle. 

“Took you long enough,” he said, and it was a touch too smug because—as per usual—Peter Parker always did know how to ruin a moment. 

Felicia sighed and shook out her long silver hair. 

“Wasn’t expecting the company,” she shot back, kicking off her heels and stepping closer to the bed. 

Felicia wasn’t all that surprised to see him if she was being honest—it wasn’t unusual, especially after a team up, for them to work together in more ways than just the one—but she was curious as to why it was with _her_ he’d chosen to waste away these particular twilight hours when earlier his eyes had been so fully trained elsewhere.

Not that it mattered to her. 

So, Felicia unzipped her dress, slowly. Always one for the show. Her sharp eyes never leaving his. The black fabric pooling at her feet like spilled ink, body laid bare underneath. The jeweled mask she wore—the last remnant of the night’s gala—still perched lovely on her nose. 

“Did you miss me, lover?” 

“Yeah,” he breathed, his gaze raking over her body. He shifted in the bed, leaning closer to get a better look at her. “You can quit the act any time now and I’ll show you.” 

“ _Oh_?” She shrugged a single pale shoulder. “What makes you think I’m interested?” 

Peter’s grin was wicked. 

On nights like these, it was no effort at all to recall the early days. Peter swinging into her room with that hungry look in his eyes. How his black suit slid between her fingers as he fucked her in the dark. His blood boiling with whatever he’d been doing before crawling into her bed. 

She wondered if he thought about those times too. 

“Come here,” he said. 

Felicia obeyed. 

In her approach, the outline of Peter’s lean body was barely visible, silhouetted as it was against the sheets. But she felt him. Those dark eyes tracking her movements from the bed.

It shouldn’t have been this easy, slipping back into his orbit. Remembering their past—scratched marks down his back, bruises on her thighs, his teeth at her neck. 

Felicia’s lips curled at the thought. 

Peter reached out when she was no more than a foot away. His palm upturned like a promise, long tanned fingers always so enticing. 

Felicia smiled before turning on her heel and twisting away. Dancing out of his arm's reach. 

“Oh baby,” she laughed, the sound wicked sharp and preening. Her skin glistened like fairy dust in the moonlight. “You really think you get to tell me what to do?”

If he wanted that, well then, he really should have climbed through someone else’s window. 

Felicia waited, hot and anticipatory for his response, for Peter to take the bait like he always did. She could almost feel his strong hands snatching her up in the dark, too quick to avoid. All his strength pushing her down. 

But he didn’t. 

He was always surprising her. 

Peter settled easily back against the pillows, seemingly content in just watching. Felicia wet her lips and twined her arms over her head, hips swaying. It was a familiar melody—Peter warm and waiting in her bed. Exhilarating even after all this time, knowing the second he wanted her, she was his. 

Knowing in that moment she had him just as easily. 

“I never knew you were capable of true torture,” Peter said, taking the opportunity to shed his pants, palming himself leisurely, his eyes drifting down her neck, over her breasts. 

“Then, I guess, you don’t really know me at all,” she breathed, voice smooth as silk. Her left hand finally reaching forward to skim over his shoulders before easily straddling him on the bed. 

Peter shifted immediately to grip at her thighs, his fingers digging in. No escape now. 

Her insides churned pleasantly thinking about all the things those hands could do. She leant down, hair falling freely between them as she started sucking kisses down his neck. 

His skin was so warm. 

But then like a bucket of ice water she caught sight of his ribs. Felicia froze. 

“You good?” she murmured. Eyes trailing over the dark bruise stretched across his side, previously hidden so well by the darkness. Her finger traced light over the mottled skin.

“Why? You worried?” he asked, taking her hand and kissing every digit. He grinned up at her with that stupid crooked smile. The one that you could almost hear even when he wore the mask. 

_Good_ , was all she could think. He was fine then. Nothing broken, probably. Felicia knew it hadn’t really been serious even before she'd asked, but still, it was never pleasant to see. 

“Worried you wouldn’t be able to get on with it,” she said, instead. 

Quickly, Felicia ran her sharp nails down his chest before reaching between them. Her fingers brushing up against his cock.

She didn’t want to waste any more time now. She was hungry. 

Peter’s head fell heavy on her shoulder as she teased him. “That the best you got?” he groaned out, kissing at her collarbone. His fingers petting at her sides. 

“Oh my, _so_ demanding,” she hummed, taking him fully—hot and heavy between her clever fingers—and started to stroke. “You really think it wise to speak to me that way, right here? Right now?” Felicia squeezed, just a shade too hard. The way she knew he liked it. 

A shuddery sigh ghosted passed her ear in response. Felicia leaned over to grab a condom from the bedside drawer. Peter’s head tilted back to watch her. 

It was so heady—his gaze on her skin, always intense, always demanding.

She rolled on the condom with practiced ease. 

“I do know you,” he finally said, reaching up to cup her neck, thumb tracing delicate along her jaw. Too gently, he removed her mask and set it aside. 

Felicia’s chest ached in a way she wasn’t quite used to, always a little unnerved when he choose to be this tender with her. 

“You really don’t,” she whispered, tracing a small heart at the center of his chest with her fingertip, right where his spider emblem would have been. “But I know you.” 

She’d seen the way Peter looked at him. 

The air weighed heavy between them. Peter silent for once, looking at her like he wanted to dig up every thought in her head. Felicia just wanted to brush back the lock of hair curled across his forehead. 

But that wasn’t really her style. 

She captured his mouth, searing and strong. Her fingers twisting at the back of his neck. 

Peter groaned and Felicia felt as his hand drifted to exposed curve of her hip, the other anchoring in her hair. In an instant he had them flipped, her back sinking into the soft mattress like she’d imagined before. 

“You ruined our plan, Cat,” he said, his body long and lean and over hers. “That’s the only reason I’m here.” 

“Mhmm, sure,” Felicia said. She bit at his lower lip—hard—and watched his eyes flutter. Just enough pleasure to offset the pain. She let go with a wet pop. “That’s the only reason.”

“You disappeared,” he continued, his fingertips brushed down her neck, feather light over the curve of her breast. “You’re never where you’re supposed to be.” 

“What does it matter?” she asked, catching Peter’s hand and bringing it to her lips. Felicia licked a long stripe up his palm before taking two of his fingers into her mouth. She watched him as her lips slid up and down, triumphant as Peter bit his lip, fighting a moan. His free hand skimmed down her side to cup her ass. She kissed the tip of each finger, grinning. “Like I said, what does it matter, baby—you did stop Fisk didn’t you?” 

“Yeah, no thanks to you,” Peter muttered, pulling back, only slightly annoyed. She knew he wasn’t mad at her, not really. Just disappointed she hadn’t done what he’d wanted—but that was old news. 

He was always a little disappointed in her. 

“Just fuck me already, will you?” Felicia said, kissing him again.

Peter frowned into it, looking for all the world like he had more to say. She was half worried he would, but then he shifted, his hand sliding down her stomach before slipping between her thighs, slick and strong and warm. 

Her body sunk bonelessly into the mattress. She’d never had anyone work over her body quite like Peter—equal parts primal and scientific. His familiar hands knowing exactly what to do. Felicia almost resented him for it, wanting to wipe that smug look off his face, but not as much as she wanted to be webbed down and revel in this feeling for hours. Just him on top of her and the slide of his fingers. 

A low keen left her throat when he started sucking kisses over her breasts. His teeth teasing at a nipple only to be soothed over by his tongue moments later. 

“You are exquisite,” he whispered, pressing each syllable into her skin. Never once stopping the pump of his fingers, three deep now. 

“And you are ridiculous,” she panted. “I can’t believe I— _mm_ —that I occasionally find you attractive.” 

He laughed.

“So you’ve said.” He spread her thighs further apart. “Multiple times.” 

“It still comes as a surprise,” she replied. Her chest tightening when he pulled his hand away. 

Peter bent down and kissed at the wetness between her thighs once before sliding back up her body, his hands cupping her face. He kissed her deeply and Felicia wrapped her long legs around him, her heels dug into the small of his back. She felt him hard against her stomach. 

“I’d grab the ol’ mask,” he said, waving a hand about his face, “if all this has suddenly become too much for you, but as you’ve also said before,” his hands ran possessively down her sides as he lined himself up, “what kind of gentleman would I be to leave a lady in such a state?” 

Felicia opened her mouth to tell him exactly where a gentleman could shove it when his hands tightened and he _moved_. 

She arched beneath him, her voice lost in a silent cry. Peter’s movements were quick and sure and it was hard to think of anything at all, except him and that hot slide deep into her. 

“Babe, _ah_ , that’s—” Felicia threw her head back, hair spreading across the sheets like moonlight. Peter’s forehead was warm against her chest. Sweat slicked between their skin. 

Their bodies fell into an easy rhythm, one never forgotten, no matter how long it’d been. 

“I got you,” he said, in tune with every thrust. “I got you.” 

She tangled her fingers in his hair, nails running along his scalp. Felicia kind of wanted to kick him for that, to laugh loudly right in his too earnest face. Always playing hero, even here in her bed. His hips rolling against hers, he _still_ said that shit. 

He couldn’t help it and she knew it was who he was—Peter believed he could save anyone.

“Okay,” Felicia allowed, just this once. “Okay.”

He continued to move with fervor as she urged him on. They’d always liked it rough, their best tool against the dark times when there’d been too many hard edges between them—always so desperate to fit, all the cuts be damned. 

“You still haven’t said why— _hh_ —why you snuck off,” he grunted, dragging Felicia back to the present. He’d slowed his pace slightly, pulling almost all the way out before pushing back in. 

Felicia rolled her eyes. She should have known he'd never leave well enough alone. 

It was true she’d left—snuck off like he said. It had always been part of her plan. He’d probably guessed that already. 

Her gaze strayed to her discarded dress, knowing what hid between the folds. A diamond necklace once worn by Bavarian royalty. The stones a shocking red and too beautiful to ignore. It surely wasn’t her fault security had been so lacking. Fisk had always been amateur hour where that was concerned—for the Kingpin of crime he really was so predictable. She could do better. 

Peter had been simple enough. Always thinking everything was about him, never once considering she had motivations past helping. 

And there was that other thing. 

“It was just too easy to slip away,” she said, running her index finger over his slightly crooked nose. “Maybe if you hadn’t been so distracted by a certain blonde.”

Peter’s hips stuttered and stopped. “What are you talking about?” 

“Please, Spider. You and the Torch?” Felicia licked her lips, allowing herself a brief moment to imagine golden boy Johnny Storm spread beneath her on the bed. The noises he’d make as she curled her fingers inside him. How she’d thread her nails through his hair and pull. “It’s okay, I don’t mind sharing.” 

“No, wait—hold up, me and _Johnny_?” he asked, incredulous. “You’re joking.” 

“Oh, come on Peter. I saw you tonight. No one could get close to Storm once you showed up. And I _heard_ him,” Felicia said, before lowering her voice slightly. “Oh _Spidey_ , Spidey please, let me help! Whatever you’re doing Spidey, don’t do this on your own! Spidey, Spidey, Spidey!” She poked him in the chest. “Baby, you wouldn’t even have time to ask before he’d come running.”

Peter shook his head. “You’re delusional.” 

“Maybe,” she shrugged, smoothing a crease between his brows with her thumb. “But since you no longer seem interested in _this_ —” Felicia rolled her hips, his cock still hard inside her. Peter’s head tipped forward with a groan, “maybe I’ll pay him a little visit instead. Such a pretty boy, that one. I bet he has a lovely scream.” 

Peter’s hands tightened at her thighs just enough to sting. “You’ll leave him alone.”

 _Bingo_ , Felicia grinned. 

“Interesting—isn’t it?” she continued, heedless. “How you never cared when it was Flash—” her eyes cut over him like ice, “—or Mary Jane.” 

“I’m serious, Cat,” said Peter, his voice low and dangerous. Something hard glittered behind his eyes. “Don’t touch him.” 

“You seem weirdly fixated,” Felicia sighed, already tired of this conversation. She grabbed Peter by the back of the neck to pull him in for another kiss. She rolled her hips again. “But whatever you say, my love.” 

He didn’t look at her again as he restarted his thrusts, harder this time, hard enough to rock the bed. Felicia surrendered herself to just sensation. Peter filling her up again and again. She was right on the edge, her nails raked down his back hard enough to mark.

“Yes,” she said. “Yes, oh, _oh_ —” 

She thought of Johnny Storm. How stunning he’d looked in his champagne tinted suit and mask made of swan feathers, blonde hair shimmering with the dimmed chandelier lights.

Felicia remembered thinking he was the real reason the Four never bothered with disguises. 

Nothing could hide that kind of beauty. 

She wanted to bite marks down his tanned chest while Peter fucked him from behind. To hear Johnny’s golden sighs as his body twined between them both. Blue eyes blown wide in pleasure and lips spit red from being thoroughly fucked. How soft those lips would be against her skin. 

Or maybe Felicia just wished Johnny was here now to watch as Peter fucked her into the mattress.

Her gasp pierced the still night air, vision clouding scarlet in pleasure.

Felicia barely had time to recover from the high of her orgasm when Peter’s pace picked up again, harder than before, the headboard slamming steadily against the wall. 

He still didn’t look at her. 

Felicia flushed and overstimulated twisted beneath him, flipping so Peter was at her back—he wasted no time in adjusted his hands, grabbing her hips and thrusting in again.

Her mouth fell open as a moan caught silent in her throat, her fingers found purchase in the silk sheets. Peter continued to grind into her, calloused hands possessive at her hips. 

“That’s it,” Peter murmured, his hard cock filling her up slick and hot and relentless. 

“Come on,” she urged, her voice lowering. “Come on. Come on. Please, _Spidey_.”

Peter came with a shout, hands tight at her hips, face buried at the back of her neck. 

He stayed that way for a few ragged breaths before kissing Felicia's shoulder once and pulling out, his nose skimmed down her spine.

She rolled over and watched as Peter tied off the condom and disposed of it in the trash basket near the dresser. He sat back on the edge of the bed facing the wall. Felicia saw her scratch marks already fading from his back. 

“What’s your plan for the necklace, Cat?” he said, finally turning to face her. 

“I don’t know, _Spider_. Wear it, sell it, throw it off the pier? It’s mine now.” Felicia slipped off the bed and pulled it out of the hidden pocket of her dress. She twirled it around her finger, watching it glint red in the moonlight like trapped flames. “How about you fuck me while I wear it? You’d like that.”

“No.” 

“Liar,” she sang. Shutting the necklace away in the old jewelry box on her nightstand. She turned to him as she climbed in bed. “You’ll be gone by sunrise.” 

He sighed and laid back against the pillows. She’s certain he won’t make her return her prize, not when it was the Kingpin she’d stolen it from—who knew where he’d gotten it in the first place. 

Still, she prepared herself for a lecture or anything else equally boring but he only shifted away and closed his eyes, falling asleep almost immediately. 

She watched him for a moment, the rise and fall of his chest. Peter had once told her he always felt better when he slept here. She wondered if that was still true. 

Felicia settled into bed, pulling the comforter higher over the both of them. Her mind drifting back again to the last few hours. The masked gala, Fisk’s flawed plan, her masterful heist. 

And of course Johnny Storm.

She’d watched them both, only half interested while waiting for an opening into the jewelry display. But it was obvious. How Johnny's face lit up when he saw Peter from across the room. The same way he'd looked at Spider-Man for years. Johnny coaxing laughter from Peter in a way Felicia herself hadn’t heard in a long time. 

They were a pretty picture. Johnny Storm shining and perfect, stance easy as he pushed his mask up to sit in perfectly curled hair. Peter in an old black suit but somehow striking all the same. He hadn’t even bothered to wear the tiny black mask she’d procured for him. 

Felicia broke from her reverie by a muffled sound. Peter turned over as he slept, hand reaching towards her. His brow furrowed even now. 

She curled into him, draping his arm across her waist.

It didn’t matter to her who Peter wanted, not really. At the end of the day, they both knew what they were. 

She sighed as she pushed back the hair curling across his forehead. 

Felicia didn’t need superpowers to know what it felt like when someone fucked her thinking of someone else. Even when they didn’t know it.

 _Especially_ , when they didn’t know it.

And always when it was Peter.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on [tumblr](https://splendidnothings.tumblr.com) :)


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